Take What You Want
by emsummer
Summary: This takes place after Law of Gravity when Grissom comes back from his sabbatical. It takes place after that scene where he follows a dirty/fresh out of rummaging the garbage Sara down the hall. This is angsty and a little OOC. Rated Mature for a reason.


The fact that his bugs were still alive was the only sign that Sara had been at his townhouse.

His bed was untouched; no dirty dishes were in the sink and all of her personal effects except for a lone toothbrush were gone. He chose to see the toothbrush as a sign that not all was lost; she'd plan on coming back.

He hadn't been prepared for the yearning he felt at the sight of her, all dirty and smelly and so damned sexy. God she was sexy. She had seemed wary, she'd practically run off and managed to elude his grasp for the rest of the shift.

He wasn't expecting a warm greeting as he stood at her doorstep; he'd prepared himself for a cold shoulder. If yelling at him was what she needed, it was fine with him; he didn't care. Any words coming out of her mouth would be music to his ears; he'd missed that husky inquisitive tone of hers.

He didn't know what to expect as he chose not to use his key and tried a tentative knock, he just wanted to see her._See her would be enough_, he thought. _See her, hold her…_His thoughts were interrupted by Sara opening the door. Hair wet, and clad in an oversize shirt – his shirt – pursing her lips at him. She smelled of vanilla and oranges. _Kiss her, taste her, bury myself deep into her and make her scream my name._Seeing her would definitely not be enough.

She barely raised an eyebrow at him as she left him standing there and went to sit by the kitchen island. Legs crossed, fingering the knives on the knife block, she ate the remnants of an orange.

Grissom's eyes lingered on her lips. He'd missed the feel of her mouth on his, the way she liked to kiss up his spine in the morning,_the way her lips look around my cock as she takes me in her mouth and sucks me until I have nothing left to give._

He knew what he wanted, what he needed and he wasn't going to leave without it.

He watched as she pushed the knives out of her reach, "I don't trust myself around them right now," she spat out.

If she was trying to scare him, she was failing miserably.

Grissom stepped forward, "I was looking for you all night."

She turned toward him, "Well, you found me..." she paused, challenging him "What? Was I supposed to let you know I was leaving? I thought that wasn't required in our relationship."

Grissom let out a sigh, "I deserve that."

He took a step closer and spoke softly "I really did miss you Sara." He reached a tentative hand towards her but she was on her feet before he could touch her, placing the stool between them, whatever cool she had managed to gather was gone.

"You didn't have to miss me, Grissom! You brought that upon yourself, you brought that upon us!" moisture gathered at the corner of her eyes and her voice came out hoarse "You can't just come here and say 'I missed you' and expect to make everything better! I missed you too but _I_ wasn't given a choice, was I?" She was shaking violently; she gripped the edges of the stool, her knuckles turning white with the strength and for half a second she thought about throwing the wooden chair at him.

Seemingly reading her thoughts, Grissom put his hands on top of hers, prying her fingers open and kicked the chair out of the way. He framed her face with his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Honey, you're upset- "

"Try fucking pissed off Griss!" she yelled. She tried pushing him away from her but when he took one of his hands and brought it down to her breast; she stilled and moaned despite her best intentions.

He rubbed her erect nipple through the shirt and felt her whole body relax, "So you're pissed off Sara, that's fine. We have plenty of time to deal with that" he said with determination "but right now…right now I want to touch you." He lowered his hands to the edge of her shirt, the shirt she'd stolen from his drawer while he was away; ready to rip it off her but at the last minute a vestige of sanity made him stop. He searched her eyes, looking for consent.

Sara held his gaze, her eyes wild. They were still for a moment, standing there in the middle of the kitchen, their sexual needs primitive and raw. This wasn't making love; this was fucking for fucking's sake.

Grissom thought he saw a flash of hesitation in Sara's eyes but it was gone almost instantly. Suddenly she moved, placing her hands on top of his. His left hand was still on her face while the other one was toying with the material of her shirt.  
She guided his right hand underneath her shirt and placed it on her hip. Still looking at him, she spoke, her voice an erotic whisper, "You better take what you want before I change my mind."

He caressed her ass, letting his hand slide slowly over her silk panties. He massaged the flesh before giving it a solid squeeze. He brought his hand around and encountered a large amount of moisture at her core. Sara moved her hips forward and he took that as a sign as he dipped two fingers in her folds.

She backed into the counter with a yelp of pain and pleasure. She grasped Grissom's shoulders, sinking her nails deep in his skin and ground herself on his hand repeatedly. She moaned a series of "fuck you" and "fuck me" and he added a third finger, adjusting his pace with her cries. Through her indecipherable groans, Grissom thought he heard a "in me now!" and he tugged at his pants as best as he could with his free hand.

Just as she was about to reach her peak, Grissom withdrew his fingers and lifted her butt awkwardly with one hand while guiding his bulging erection, barely hanging out of his boxers, with the other one.

She barely had time to process the absence of his fingers before she felt the large and familiar thrust of him into her. Her spine hit the counter with the force of each stroke and it brought on a familiar pain; make up sex invariably took place in the kitchen. Before long, Sara's shouts were met with Grissom's guttural grunts. She knew he was close and she could feel her own imminent climax.

Within moments they both came hard, Grissom's orgasm immediately following Sara's. He pressed his forehead against hers as they stood there half naked, spent and trying to catch their breaths.

She raised her head to speak but before she had time to utter another "fuck you," he pressed his lips forcefully on hers and they kissed for the first time in almost a month.

Their tongues were getting reacquainted in a passionate display, and even as he tasted salt, Grissom knew without the hint of a doubt that eventually the lonesome toothbrush at his townhouse would be reunited with its rightful owner.


End file.
